


Pawns of the Devil

by abductedgoblin



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, I love them but I lOVE them being serious, Mages, Magic, Vampires, imagine if i took the characters and just stole them and made my own story, thats basically what im doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-02 16:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19445176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abductedgoblin/pseuds/abductedgoblin
Summary: We follow the story of five outcasts, led by Gilbert, cursed to be a creature of the night.  He is searching for a cure so he can return to his brother, but he must avoid detection by the Catholic church or he will be burned at the stake.  He is accompanied on his journey by Arthur, a firey tempered mage, Alfred, a playful harpy, Francis, a quick witted man who can talk to animals, and Ivan, whose ability to manipulate darkness strikes fear into even the hearts of his allies.  Whether they picked their path or were thrust onto it, they now travel together, searching for belonging.





	1. Gilbert

**Author's Note:**

> I choose not to use warnings because I don't know how the story ends yet, so characters are at risk of dying. Besides that this will be a pretty mellow read, most romance will be limited to kissing or "and then they had a passionate night." If things change and I get into gory details about well, anything explicit, I'll be sure to update the rating, the tags, and the warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 1 and 3 are backstory, if you just want the juicy plot start at chapter 2. This is also the only chapter written in first person POV

I suppose I can only start this awesome tale at the beginning. Years ago my younger brother and I lived with our parents in a small village that was protected by the Catholic church. Everyone there was grateful for the church’s protection, for dangerous things lurked in the dark. If you stayed within the town and did not travel at night you were at less risk for abduction. My family, it seemed, was rather vulnerable. First the things took our father, who had been out late at the pub. I am certain that his alcohol tainted blood grabbed their attention. Then, they took our mother, a fitting end for a woman with a rough life. Every day she worked herself to the bone to keep us clothed and fed. Then, they took me, but what better to combat their thirst than with my tainted blood.

It was my fault. I had just come of age, had just became a man, and I was- no I am still angry. They had already taken my parents, I could not let them take my brother too. Armed with my sword, I trekked into the woods where we first lost our father, and then our mother, and waited for the sun to set.

I don’t remember much from that fight. The creatures moved too quickly for me to see, and when my sword eventually made contact, my victim did not bleed. My fatal mistake was not that I did not swing hard enough or move fast enough. My fatal mistake was that I looked into my enemy’s eyes, glowing and red, I was immediately under their spell.

  
It was still dark when I awoke, drained and alone. That _thing_ had turned me into one of them, I had been changed into a creature of the night, expected to serve the devil, but I would not let that happen. I had my brother to protect. I vowed to find a way to change back. I will do whatever it takes to be able to return home. Until then, I will keep my hunger at bay and search the world to undo this curse.


	2. Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes (if they can be called that) are nearing the next stop on their journey, a town called Addersfield where Elizabeta runs a shop that sells magical wares. However, Addersfield is Arthurs home town, one that is not very welcoming of him or his abilities.

“Jeez, I am so tired,” Alfred whined, “can’t we rest yet?”

“We are all tired, Alfred, but we have to make use of the darkness. We will get to rest soon,” Francis assured him. The soothing sound of his voice would have made Arthur grin, but their destination weighed heavy on his mind. They were traveling to the town he had once called home. Thinking about it made his stomach turn, and made Arthur recall the pain that the people there had inflicted on him so vividly that he winced.

“Arthur, are you alright?” Francis asked, unaware that his concern caused Arthur to feel even worse.

The mage glared, “You don’t hear me complaining do you?”  _ Nosy bastard, _ he thought to himself, _ he can’t help but get into everyone else’s business. _

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’m part bird!” Alfred piped up, thinking that Arthur’s commented had been directed at him. “You try constantly fighting your nature!”

Arthur pressed a hand to his temple, “Not everything is about you, birdbrain.”

Before Alfred could protest further Gilbert spoke up, “The sun will be out soon, we need to find a place to rest.”

“On it!” Alfred cheered, before giving a few flaps of his large golden wings and ascending above the trees. He returned within a few moments and pointed to their left. “There’s a particularly thick patch of trees over there. They should block most of the sunlight, so you’ll be okay.”

Gilbert nodded. “Great job, let's head over there now, set up camp for the day, and then I’ll see if I can find something to eat.”

Arthur watched as Francis clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was no doubt that he found it difficult to condone Gilbert’s consumption of animal blood.  _ Better them than us _ , Arthur thought, and tried to shrug away the thought of being able to hear their screams of pain. It was simply part of a vampire’s nature, and Alfred had a point, it is hard to fight one’s nature.

“I am glad I am not vegetarian,” Ivan proclaimed, placing a large hand on Francis’ shoulder, “during winter in my country it is hard to find food that is not animals. Sometimes we must do what we need to survive.” Arthur scowled at the brute, it was obvious his comments made Francis’ mood sour even more.

“Perhaps what everyone must do right now is stop talking.” He could feel the heat growing in his hands, and he knew that if he was not careful they would ignite. If Arthur started a fight with Ivan at this time of day he would be easily defeated, but that did not stop him from considering it. Instead he took a deep breath and began to walk in the direction Alfred had indicated. “Maybe Alfred is right, we all just need some rest.”

Alfred let out a small cheer before flying ahead of the group. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

_ The joke’s on you, we’re all rotten. _

\---------

It didn’t take long for the five of them to prepare for the coming day, Arthur easily started a fire for cooking, and Francis and Gilbert quickly put up a simple tent for Gilbert to take refuge while the sun rose and shone through the trees, and then Gilbert vanished into the woods to hunt. The other four laid their own bed rolls out in the open. The September weather had been kind to them, and they had yet to deal with any rain or any extreme temperatures.

Alfred was asleep almost instantly, once again reminding everyone that in order to travel with the group he had to constantly fight against his circadian rhythm. They could not deny that they were all tired, it was hard being restricted to traveling at night. The limited time frame meant they could not travel as quickly as anyone would like, and the only ones who benefited from it were Ivan and Gilbert. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. If they were spotted traveling during the day, only Arthur would be able to fight back, and he knew from experience that his firepower was not enough to keep everyone safe.

“Couldn’t even keep myself safe,” he muttered as he dug through his bag.

“What was that?” Francis asked. He was sitting by the fire, and he looked particularly exhausted, though Arthur figured the miles they had traveled that day were not the only thing weighing him down.

The mage shook his head. “Nothing. I was just thinking out loud.” The last thing he wanted to talk about was how he had failed. “We’re rather close to Addersfield, one more night of travel and then we will be there. I doubt Elizabeta can sneak all of us in, so perhaps you and Ivan should go. You two will arouse the least suspicion.”

“Ah yes,” Francis began to tease, “the huge man with purple eyes and conscious shadow is not suspicious at all. Arthur  _ you _ should be going-”

“I already told you I can’t,” Arthur interrupted. “I barely managed to- you know what, never mind. I can’t go into Addersfield, I will endanger everyone that way.”

Francis moved closer to Arthur so that there was only a few inches between them. He looked into the mages green eyes. “You can talk to me about what happened.” Arthur looked away and into the fire. They sat in silence for a moment.

“I-” he paused, he could feel his chest tighten. “They tried to drown me.” Francis gasped.

“How did you escape?”

“I managed to burn the rope they tied me with before they dropped me in the water.” Arthur could feel his cheeks burning with shame. “It was damaged enough that I was able to break the rope and escape the rocks that were sinking me.” He crossed his arms and stared intently at the fire, “still, the current of the river pulled me down, and I don’t know how to swim. I nearly died. I’m not entirely sure how I managed to pull myself up onto the river bank without being spotted. I’m lucky I survived. So, I can’t go back there. They’ll recognize me and it’ll put everyone in danger.”

Francis placed a gentle hand on Arthur’s. “I am so sorry,” he began, but was cut off by Arthur once again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I was only caught because I was a fool. I didn’t have enough self control, I was too immature. I know better now and I won’t make a mistake like that again.” As he finished making his point, Arthur noticed that Francis’ hand was still resting on his, but said nothing about it. While he didn’t want to admit it, the blue eyed man’s gesture was comforting.

“Something similar happened to me,” Francis pulled his hand away from Arthur’s and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “My family thought I was insane when I told them I could speak with animals. They were going to give me to the church to try and ‘fix,’ so I ran away. What we have are gifts, well,” Francis looked into the woods, “some of us have gifts. Some of us have burdens. What really matters is what we do with them. I think it is wrong that we have to hide who we are, the church and the people should not make us live in fear,” he sighed, “but here we are… hiding in a forest, waiting for the sun to rise so that we can rest uneasy.” Francis turned to look at Arthur, who was now staring at him. “I often wish the world was different, more accepting, or at least more understanding. I hope that we can make it that way.”

This time, it was Arthur who reached out to comfort Francis, and they sat together and watched as the sunlight began to reach its way into the sky and through the trees.


	3. Alfred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even a harpy deserves a backstory, and some insight into how our protagonists stumbled upon each other.

Alfred had been human once, maybe, he wasn’t really sure. He and his twin brother were born cursed, by no fault of their own. They were a witch’s punishment on their mother, but she never told them what for. She said that when Alfred and Matthew were born they were two normal babies, but as the boys grew they began to change. Alfred’s physical changes were much more prominent than his brother’s. As he aged his body changed in expected ways. His legs grew feathers and his feet became talons, wings sprouted from his back and a feather collar grew in along his neckline. 

Matthew, meanwhile, was a bit luckier. He learned that he could shift between his human form and that of a large, white bear, but his mind worked differently as a consequence. Matthew decided that rather than try and navigate the stressful human world, he would live life in the woods, and Alfred, not wanting to be a burden on his mother, decided to become a traveler and exist on the outskirts of society. It was this decision that eventually brought Gilbert to him.

It was a calm night, and Alfred was sleeping high in the trees when he was startled awake by a cracking sound. Something was climbing to his perch, and it was climbing fast. He jumped upwards and flew several feet above the canopy. Whoever it was could not reach him in the sky.

“Who's there?” He called into the silence. “Show yourself coward!”

Still silence, but then a voice replied. “I did not mean to scare you, I just have never smelt anything like you before.” Then, without a sound, the pale creature pulled himself up and out of the shadows of the trees. His hair was as unnaturally white as his skin but his most prominent feature was his eyes, they were red as blood and glowed as bright as a fire.

Alfred clenched his fists and he could feel his feathers stand on end. Suddenly the distance between them did not feel large enough, but moving was not an option. It was like he was in a trance, every fiber of Alfred’s being was screaming to flee but he could not move. Those eyes, they pierced into his soul.

“What are you?” Alfred barely managed to ask.

The creature smirked. “I could ask you the same. Come closer.” Unwillingly, Alfred did as he was told. It was as if someone had attached strings to his limbs and was now deciding what Alfred could do. The sensation was terrifying. “Amazing, I have never seen a harpy in person before.”

Alfred shook his head before stuttering out, “A- a what? I’m just a person.”

The creature chuckled. “And so am I, at least I used to be.”

“What are you now?” Alfred asked.

“A vampire obviously,” the creature said matter of factly. “Oh no, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured Alfred, who was trying his best not to look afraid.

In spite of the vampires assurance Alfred did not feel safe. “Why not?” 

“I’m not like the rest of them. You can think and talk, you have dreams. Perhaps you are not a person on the outside, but you are one on the inside, and I swore I would never harm a person. I am not a monster. I am just a man trying to return to the way he was, if that is even possible.” The vampire sighed. He had been searching for a cure to his ailment, as he called it, for years and every lead had been a dead end. The repeated failure weighed heavily on him and was beginning to take its toll.

Alfred nodded, “I know exactly how you feel…. Maybe... I can help?” The vampire smiled, showing off his sharp fangs and causing Alfred to second guess his offer. He had always been one to lend a hand, and to be quite honest, a life of solitude was not as much fun as one might think.

“That would be awesome.” The vampire held out his hand, “By the way, my name is Gilbert, Gilbert Beilschmidt.”

Alfred, who was suddenly in control of his own body again, took Gilbert’s hand in his own and shook it. “I’m Alfred. And, um, unless you can sleep in trees too, maybe we should get back to the ground.”


	4. Francis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our group of unlikely protagonists have almost made their way to Addersfield to recieve help from Elizabeta, who runs the general store in town.

There is comfort in belonging and familiarity, and there is excitement and fear in the unknown. It was this that Francis was thinking about as Arthur told him the story of what the people of Addersfield, people who had been Arthur’s family, had done to him.

“I often wish the world was different, more accepting, or at least more understanding. I hope that we can make it that way.” Francis sighed, but hope alone would not fix the world. Arthur placed his hand on Francis’ and the Frenchman felt his pulse quicken. Even if hope could not fix the world, perhaps they could push it in the right direction.

They sat together as the sun began to light up the sky. Gilbert would have to return soon, for at dawn the light would shine through the forest instead of above it, but for the moment, with Alfred asleep and Ivan preoccupied, Francis and Arthur got to enjoy each other’s company, though they would never admit it. Something had been growing between them for quite some time. The longer they traveled together the more comfortable they became with each other, and despite their bickering and occasional serious fights, they had begun to build trust.

It was after a few minutes of comfortable silence that Arthur realized he still had his hand resting on Francis’. His cheeks flushed bright red and he faked a cough as an excuse to move away from his companion. 

“I suppose we should get some rest then,” Arthur said, keeping his face turned away from Francis. The bedrolls were not the most comfortable, but beat lying on the forest floor. Oh how he missed having a bed, and a roof above his head, but no matter how much he longed for it, he had no home to return too. The people of Addersfield had forced him to watch as they burnt his house to the ground. Fire was his greatest tool, but that day it was used against him. They forced him to learn a powerful lesson about control.

“I suppose so. Bonne nuit.”

——

Sleep did not come easily to Francis and when he did finally rest his dreams were filled with warped images of the past. First he found himself in a dark, damp jail cell, one he had been in before. Then he was running, barefoot, through the woods being chased by his village. He could almost feel the heat of their torches on their back. The vines on the floor of the woods reached out at him, slowing his pace until he could hardly move. 

Then, suddenly, he was floating in a pond, talking with the frogs. It was a dizzying unnatural kind of floating, almost sickening. Silently, and without grabbing Francis’ attention, a slimy hand rose from the water and grabbed Francis by the arm. He screamed as another hand, and another, and another grabbed him, until dozens of hands were dragging him underwater. Francis struggled feebly against their inhumanly strong grip. He screamed again, but in vain as his lungs filled with water. He felt immense pain, he was dying, he was awake, sitting up on his bedroll, tears running down his cheeks grasping at his chest. Perhaps he would not try and sleep for the rest of today.

“Are… are you alright?” Francis jumped, startled by Alfred’s question.

He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. “Oui, oui, just a bad dream is all.”

Alfred nodded, “I hate when that happens, like c’mon! I’m just trying to get some rest no reason for my brain to be rude.” Francis laughed and Aflred grinned from ear to ear. He was always glad to help.

——

It took one more night of travel before the five outcasts reached Addersfield. Arthur brought them to a comfortable spot close to town, but far enough away that no one would spot them. A river ran along the north, passing beside a rather unremarkable mountain. In the side of the mountain was a cave where they set up camp, a convenient hiding place that provided them easy access to the river and the nearby woods. As the sun began to rise and remove the cloak of darkness the stunning beauty of their hideout was revealed. The water of the river was clear and glistened as it reflected the sunlight, and with winter approaching the trees of the forest had turned brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow.

“This is where I came to practice my magic when I first discovered what I could do,” Arthur said with a small smile.

“This spot is good. We can do the fishing and the cleaning.” Ivan began to dig through his bag for his fishing line. “I just need big stick.”

“Well actually, Ivan, you need to go into town with Francis,” Gilbert said.

“But that job is for Arthur,” Ivan whined, he hated going into town. When traveling with his companions he did not have to focus on keeping his powers strictly controlled, but in public spaces he had to keep his full attention on his shadow and its movement. Plus, people were complicated and he was not very good at navigating the English language.

It was hard for Arthur fight the growing feeling that he was a useless member of their group. He was not a peacemaker like Francis, nor as strong as Gilbert, nor as skilled as Alfred, nor as powerful as Ivan. What could he do? Make fire? Anyone could do that with the right tools. Still, he shoved down the voice inside of him that was shouting his insecurities and tried to be somewhat useful.

“There is one general store in town,” he said, “and it is run by my dear friend Elizabeta. Elizabeta also runs another shop, one that very few people know about. She sells and collects magical items. She might have something that can help Gilbert, so you,” he gestured to Francis and Ivan, “have to convince her to show you these items. You have to convince her that you are not a threat.”

Francis chuckled, “that sounds easier said than done.”


	5. Ivan

While his companions could talk all day, Ivan was not a man of many words. It was not that he did not have things to say, but rather that he felt they were not worth saying. So when it was decided that he and Francis would go into town, despite how much he hated the idea, Ivan did not protest enough to sway anyone. He did not like people very much, they had never been nice to him, especially when he was younger. Even now, people were not warm towards him, but they were not as mean as they used to be, likely because of his large and intimidating stature. It did not help that he had strange powers.

Regardless, Ivan surrendered to his companions requests that he go to Addersfield. Luckily for him, dawn had just broken, so he had a few hours to fish before they headed to the town. After finding a stick to act as a suitable fishing pole, Ivan headed down to the river, baited his line, and waited. Fishing was perhaps Ivan’s favorite thing to do, he could relax and watch the water and enjoy his time alone.

However that would not be happening today.

“What’s up!” Alfred shouted.

“Please be quiet you will startle the fish,” Ivan said, already knowing his attempts to hush Alfred would be in vain.

“Oh! Sorry,” Alfred whispered somewhat dramatically. “What’s up?”

Ivan just stared blankly at Alfred, it was obvious what  _ was up _ . “I am fishing.”

Alfred laughed. “No duh! I’m asking how you are doing!”

“I am fine… How are you?” Ivan was deeply confused that Alfred had instigated a conversation.

Alfred stuck his feet in the water, the quick motion would most certainly startle any fish that he had not already scared away. “I’m doing pretty good. Pretty good. So… How do you feel about going into town today?”

_ Ah, so that’s what this is about _ .

“I am not a big fan. I am glad to help, but I would be more glad to be fishing.” Alfred laughed again, “what are you laughing? I have not made joke.”

“Oh man,” the harpy said with a smile, putting a hand on Ivan’s shoulder, “I just think the way you talk is funny.”

Ivan blushed, “I have accent because I speak two languages!”

“Oh no! I’m not laughing at your accent!” He gave Ivan’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, “You just don’t talk much, but when you do you never sugarcoat it. I just think that’s pretty cool is all.”

“Ah,” the Russian nodded, “I do not like to waste time with unnecessary sugar.” Again he laughed, except this time Ivan was not bothered. It was hard to ignore Alfred’s laugh, he laughed with his whole body, unapologetic and full of joy. And his smile, it could light up the whole forest. Ivan was staring, though he had not realized it yet.

“What are you looking at? Is there something in my teeth?”

Ivan shook his head. “No, no, I just zoned out.”

“I’m not boring ya am I?” Alfred asked with a pout. “I didn’t want you to feel lonely, but if I’m boring you that might be worse.”

“You are not boring,” Ivan began, watching as Alfred stifled a yawn. “Maybe you should sleep. I will be fine alone.”

Alfred nodded and stretched, his wings almost bumping into Ivan. “You’re probably right, I’m exhausted.” He stood. “You sure you’re gonna be alright?”

“Da.”

“Well, I’m gonna go sleep then. See ya later.” Alfred gave a small wave and went back to the cave where they had set up camp.


	6. Addersfield

Around midday Francis and Ivan began their walk to Addersfield. According to Arthur it was fifteen minutes downstream. Their task was to go to town and find Elizabeta’s shop without arousing suspicion, and while the people of Addersfield were kind enough, it was best for the pair to be cautious.

And so, they found themselves at the small town, which was bustling with afternoon activity. Ivan had brought his catch from the morning to sell, and he worked on that as Francis went in search of Elizabeta’s shop.

“Where would it be?” Francis thought aloud, following the main path through town. Each shop along the path had a little sign hanging above the door. Francis read the signs: _Bob’s Butchers,_ _Richard’s And Mortimer’s Smithing, Bakery de BoJack._ “Ah, this must be it.” The sign read _World Novelties and General Store._ Unlike most of the other stores this one did not have the owner’s name on it, but it matched Arthur’s description.

“Hello,” called a woman from behind the counter.

“Ah, bonjour,” Francis replied, “I am looking for a shop run by a woman called Elizabeta. Could you help me?”

She smirked, looking him over with her green eye, “Yes. I am Elizabeta and this is my shop. How can I help you?” 

“I heard you have some… interesting items,” Francis said with a wink. “Perhaps I may be able to peruse your hidden wares?”

“What?” Elizabeta asked with a nauseated look on her face.

Francis winked again, to indicate that to her that he knew about her other shop. “You know,” he took a step closer to her, “your hidden wares?” However, Francis’ wink had been misinterpreted, and Elizabeta grew red with anger.

“Do you really think you can come into my shop and try and solicit me?” She demanded, grabbing Francis by the ear and pulling him to the door. “Do not come back here again!” Elizabeta threw Francis out of her shop and onto the street.

Shame and embarrassment were all Francis could feel as everyone who had heard her yell at him stare, and his cheeks turned bright red. How were they supposed to find anything for Gilbert when Francis was banned from the shop?

“What was that about?” Ivan asked, returning from the butcher’s, his pockets now slightly heavier after selling his mornings catch.

Francis rubbed the back of his neck, “I have accidentally offended mademoiselle Elizabeta. Perhaps you can take a shot at it.”

Ivan nodded confidently, “I find best approach is to be direct.” Then he walked into the shop without another word. Francis stood outside the shop for a few minutes before Ivan returned, empty handed. “I asked her ‘I would like to see your magic shop please.’”

“And?”

Ivan shook his head. “She got very mad. She told me I was trying to ruin her good name.”

“Oh dear,” Francis said with a shake of his head. “We may have to bring Arthur after all.” And so, they began their walk back to the rest of their party, feeling defeated.

\-----

“Back already?” Gilbert asked when Ivan and Francis entered the cave. Arthur and Alfred were resting on their bedrolls, most likely asleep. “What did she say? Did she have anything?”

Ivan sat down next to Gilbert and pulled out a loaf of bread they had bought in Addersfield. “We do not know,” he said, slightly deflated, but then he cheerfully added, “but we did get this!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Gilbert asked, throwing his hands in the air, “That was the whole reason we came here!” Francis flinched at the yelling, it was sure to wake the other two.

“Well we tried,” Francis began, “but she didn’t understand what we were asking.” Looking away at the ground he quickly added, “And she said I’m not allowed to go back.” Gilbert groaned, “I think Arthur has to go,” Francis look at the Englishman, who had not stirred, “they knew each other so if he goes then she might help us.”

“No,” Arthur said, sitting up, “I cannot go back to that town.”

“Did we wake you?” Francis asked.

Arthur shook his head, “I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Nervous about you lot I suppose, and rightfully so.” He sighed, Gilbert, couldn’t go it would just be a waste of time since the shops closed before the sun set. And Alfred couldn’t go instead, it would be hard to disguise a harpy. Arthur really was their last resort. “Fuck, I guess I have to go.” He pointed at Francis, “but you have to with me, if they catch me you have to help me escape.”

  
“No promises,” Francis said with a smile. He was relieved that Arthur was agreeing to go, but also ridden with guilt for putting him at risk this way.  _ If anything were to happen to him _ , Francis thought to himself,  _ I don’t know what I would do. _


	7. Elizabeta's Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, while the Smart thing to do would have been to tell Elizabeta that they knew Arthur, that didn't occur to Francis and Ivan. And perhaps, she would not have taken it well since, to her, Arthur was dead. So, after their failed attempt our five outcasts felt that the only option was for Arthur to return to Addersfield, with the hope that Elizabeta may have some information to help Gilbert.

“How is your day going?” Roderich asked, leaning on the counter of Elizabeta’s shop.

“It’s good,” she said, “I did have two very strange men come in.” She lowered her voice to just above a whisper, even though her shop was empty and said, “One of them tried to solicit me for sex.”

Roderich blushed, he was aghast.

“No way!”

Elizabeta nodded, and made a motion of her hands as if she was clapping off imaginary dirt, “I kicked him out straight away. What a foul man.”

She had always been independent and refused to tolerate being treated with disrespect. She had started her shop on her own, managed to earn enough to move to this building, which had the perfect place to hide the magical items she also sold. The occasional strange traveler would drop by, and if they met her requirements she would show them to the basement and often manage to make a sale.

The door to the shop opened, and Elizabeta’s previously warm glance turned cold.

“I thought I told you to stay out.”

Francis put up his hands defensively. “Please don’t throw me out again, I’m sorry,” he cried.

“What did he do to make you so mad anyway?” a strange voice asked, as a cloaked man stepped out from behind Francis. His face was covered but Elizabeta was almost positive she knew who it was.

“Hey, pervert,” Elizabeta said, shooting another quick glare at Francis, “shut the door.”

Francis did as he was told, while Arthur fought back a chuckle.

“It can’t be you, you’re supposed to be dead.” Elizabeta took a cautious step forward, staring intently as Arthur lowered his hood and revealed his face. “ _ Kedves Isten _ ,” she said, placing a hand on her chest, “I know they couldn’t find your body but I didn’t think you survived. How?”

“Some quick thinking, I suppose,” Arthur said with a chuckle, looking around the shop. His eyes landed on Roderich.

“What is he doing here?” Arthur asked.

Elizabeta put a hand on Roderich’s arm, he had been staring at Arthur with his mouth agape, as if he had seen a ghost.

“He’s not going to say anything to anyone,” she squeezed his arm and he flinched, “right?”

“Ow, ow ow, ja.” Roderich said, pulling his arm from Elizabeta’s grip. “If I said anything about…  _ him...  _ you would get in trouble too, and I don’t want that.”

Arthur smirked, “Yes, because if she’s gone no one else could stand being near you.”

Roderich began to speak but Francis cut him off, walking briskly towards Elizabeta and taking her hand. “I am terribly sorry for earlier, mademoiselle,” he said with a bow, and then he kissed her hand, “It was all just a terrible misundersta-”

Elizabeta hit the back of Francis’ head with her free hand, “I still don’t understand what you are doing here.”

With a swift movement, Arthur grabbed the back of Francis’ tunic and pulled him away from Elizabeta.

“Sadly, he is with me,” Arthur said, causing Francis’ to pout, though Arthur paid it no mind. “We are actually here because I have a friend who needs some help,” Arthur said plainly.

Elizabeta nodded. “Roderich watch the store for me,” She commanded, before leading Arthur and Francis to behind the counter. She lifted her rug and revealed a trap door. The three descended the stairs into the darkness. “Maybe you can provide us with some light, Arthur.”

Arthur held his hand out with his palm facing up. A fire ignited in it, and once he had a view of the room and where the candles were, the fire seemed to flick from his palm towards the candles, bouncing from each one until every handle was lighting up the room. Francis began to look around, though Arthur and Elizabeta were already familiar with her secret shop. The room they were in was slightly larger than Elizabeta’s store above them was. It was nicely lit, thanks to Arthur and all the candles, and the floor and walls were not dirt, like Francis had expected, but were a combination of wood and stone. It must have been expensive to get the materials and labor to construct this, but what was more shocking than the room was its content. All around them were strange items, stacked on tables and hanging on the walls. Weapons, nick-nacks, clothes, figurines, jewelry, vials filled with mysterious liquids, and many other items.

“Oh! I’ll be right back,” Elizabeta said, hurrying towards a back corner. “Be careful of what you touch!” 

“Right, right,” Arthur responded rather lazily, picking up a silver pocket watch from a nearby table and turning it over.

Leaning on the wall was a mirror with a gleaming silver frame, which caught Francis’ attention. He stood in front of it, looking himself over. He needed a trim and a quick shave, but more than that, he looked tired. Sleeping had been difficult recently, and it was starting to show. 

“Alright!” Elizabeta said, returning with a sword wrapped in cloth. “I managed to save this before your house burnt down,” she held the sword out to Arthur.

He took it in both hands without unwrapping it. It had been so long since he had held his weapon that what should have been familiar felt unusually heavy.

“Thank you, Elizabeta,” he said, finally taking the cloth off the sword. He unsheathed the sword, and admired the blade. “But, I don’t think I need this anymore.” He resheathed it and handed the sword to Francis.

“Why not?” Francis asked, looking over the weapon. “It’s in good condition.”

“I just think you need it more,” Arthur said. 

Francis’ eyes flickered up to Arthur.

“You’re joking.”

“No, not at all,” Arthur could feel his face beginning to heat up. “I can shoot fire out of my hands, you need something to protect yourself with.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Arthur,” Elizabeta said, stifling a giggle as Arthur’s face began to take a tint of red.

“It’s not sweet, it’s just the logical thing to do!”

Now Francis and Elizabeta were snickering at Arthur.

“Well,” Francis said, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and unsheathing the sword, “I think it’s a kind gesture. Merci beaucoup, Arthur.”

“Yeah, whatever…” Arthur grumbled. “We didn’t come here for swords. Elizabeta,” Arthur gestured to the underground store, “do you have anything in here that could, I don’t know, remove the vampire from someone.”

Elizabeta laughed.

“I don’t think that’s possible!” She said, walking over to a large book resting on one of the tables. “I know I don’t have anything that could do that, but…” she began flipping through the pages, “found it! Come here boys,” she said, pointing at the page. Instead of words, the book was filled with maps. The page Elizabeta had open was a map of a distant country, Romania.

“Here,” she said, pointing at a small town on the map, “there’s a man who lives here who knows just about everything there is to know about vampires, he may be able to help your friend.”

“Sinaia,” Arthur said, “what country is that?”

“Romania. It’s about a two month journey from here.” Elizabeta closed the book, “it’s quite a commitment. Your friend must be very important to you.”

“He is,” Francis said. “I admire his strength. He could have given into the urges of a vampire but he refuses to attack his fellow man. Ignoring the risk, he offered his hand to help us when he saw we needed it. Thanks to him we outcasts have-” Arthur cut him off.

“She gets it, Francis.”

“Sorry,” he whined. “Well,” Francis returned his attention to the map, “it seems like if we just head East we will eventually reach Sinaia.”

“Thank you for everything,” Arthur said to Elizabeta, “I don’t know if I’ll ever return here. It’s risky for everyone.”

Elizabeta pulled Arthur into a hug, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Do I get a hug too?” Francis asked, holding his arms open.

“No,” she said coldly, and Francis pouted.

“We should get going, if someone catches me here, well… I don’t want to know what would happen,” Arthur said.

“It is risky,” Elizabeta agreed with a nod.

They wished each other their last goodbyes and Francis and Arthur headed out. Sneaking around town at dusk was easier than during daylight. They walked in a line, with Francis in front and Arthur in the back, with his hood pulled up to hide his head. While they did not get exactly what they had been hoping for, they had another chance, somewhere else to go, a potential end to Gilbert’s search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Francis feels the most true to the show in this chapter. :pppp


	8. The Frenchman and the Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a look into Francis' past and how he ended up joining Gilbert and Alfred on the journey to find a cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what headspace I was in listen to "In the woods somewhere" by hozier bc that was on repeat as I wrote this

“Why do you cry, little one?” The fox asked the boy. He could not have been more than 6 years old, with blonde shining hair and eyes as blue as the ocean.

“When I tell my family that our dog talks they hit me,” he sobbed. The fox left it’s hiding spot under the bush and wrapped itself around the young boy. It was not often a human answered its question.

“Humans can be cruel,” the fox said. “They fear what they do not understand.”

The small child hugged the fox and cried into its fur. He was trying to speak but was crying so hard that whatever he said was incomprehensible.

“It is not your fault, little one, you were made different.” The fox paused, it could smell other humans in the air. “I must leave,” it said, standing up to hide, “but listen closely. Your gift makes you special, do not be ashamed of it, but you must hide it to remain safe.” 

The little boy rubbed at his red eyes. “Hide it?” He asked.

“Yes,” said the fox, “for your safety. Goodbye little one, I hope to meet you again one day.” With that, the fox ran off.

“Francis!” The voy turned to the source of the voice, “there you are!” The woman picked the boy up and carried him back to the village.

——-

Screaming awoke the teen. From outside the little cottage in the little village he could hear a blood curdling scream.

So he ran into the woods, ran towards the scream and found a fox, caught in a snare.

“Don’t worry,” the teen said, “I will help you.”

The fox whined, it was hanging upside down, with the snare wrapped around its leg.

“It’s okay,” the teen said, grabbing the fox so it was hanging over his shoulder and undoing the snare. “There, you’re free now.” He put the fox down.

The fox walked a few paces before speaking. 

“Thank you, little one. You have gotten much bigger than the last time I saw you.”

Francis knelt on the ground, before patting the fox in its head.

“I took your advice to heart,” he said. “I thought I had dreamed you.”

As he and the fox chatted, a villager who, out of curiosity, had followed Francis to the woods, ran to the village to tell everyone that Francis was losing his mind. 

Those in charge agreed that he needed to be locked up and treated, to be cured of the devil that poisoned him. So, they went to the woods where Francis and the fox were. The fox fled, but Francis was not fast enough. They grabbed him and ignored his cries for mercy.

——-

They kept him in a dark, damp cell. The priest came by to exercise him, but failed for there was no demon or devil within him.

The rats and mice that scuttled along the walls whispered about him.

“Poor creature,” they would say, “he did nothing wrong.”

A few days passed before Francis was tested, to see if he was free of the devil's influence, as it was put.

“Hello,” the priest said, walking into the room, carrying one of the local cats. “How are you?”

Francis did not smile or respond, just stared blankly.

“Ah,” the priest sighed, “you are still mad. No worries, this will be short.” He held up the cat, “does she speak to you?”

“Lie,” the cat said, “lie and be free.”

“No,” Francis said to the cat.

“Good,” the priest said, and they let Francis go.

\-----

The man avoided suspicion and trouble for a few more years. By the time he reached adulthood, most had forgotten about his ‘ailment’ as they put it, though not all. He had become comfortable, perhaps too comfortable, and would talk with the livestock when no one was around.

He was at risk, but he could not deny who he was. It hurt too much to do so.

Consequently, he spent his time around the sheep, the cows, and the chickens, making sure they were okay, that they were happy. He brought them treats and treated them as equals. 

But good things must come to an end. Bored neighbors with grudges started rumors.

“He is clearly crazy,” said some.

“The devil is using him,” others said.

This time, Francis ran before they could catch him. Through the woods, hopping over logs and pushing past branches, he ran, guided by the stars. And they followed.

And then, they stopped, but Francis did not. He ran until he could run no longer, and he laid down under the stars, trying to catch his breath. All he could hear was the breeze traveling through the trees and the crickets chirping their nightly songs. He laid there for a few minutes, recovering.

“You must be pretty dangerous,” a mysterious voice spoke, “for all of those people to be chasing after you.”

Francis sat up, looking around.

“Who said that?”

A man stepped into the moonlight, but he was not quite human. His skin was too pale, his eyes too bright, and when he spoke, his teeth were too sharp.

“Don’t worry!” He said. “I’m like you! Well, sort of… not really…” he clasped his hands together. “People don’t like having me around either.”

Francis snickered. “That is an understatement. Who are you?”

The man, Francis knew he wasn’t human but was not sure how else to describe him, gestured towards the direction Francis had just ran from.

“I’m the awesome guy that stopped those people from chasing you!” He declared this with pride.

“What are you?” Francis asked. The creature grinned, allowing Francis a clear view of his fangs. “A vampire?” His voice was shaking, in fact his whole body was shaking, but from over-exertion or fear he could not tell.

“Don’t worry,” the vampire said again. “My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt.” He held a hand out to help Francis up, which the Frenchman reluctantly took.

“How do I know you won’t try to feed off of me?” Francis asked, deciding it was in his best interest to play nice, he would lose any fight with a vampire.

“Well,” Gilbert began, “If you don’t believe me that I won’t hurt you, I have a friend who might calm your nerves. He’s not too far from here. I’m honestly surprised he slept through all the comotion, but that harpies for you, I guess.”


End file.
